Maybe He Won, After All
by Gilly Bean2
Summary: Weeks before the war, Hermione and Ron married out of desperation to feel alive. She was widowed during the final battle, leaving her alone in the world. BillHermione


**Maybe He Won, After All**

By Gilly 

_AN- I never meant for this fic to run as long as it did. I was hoping to get a nice one shot work of about 1500 words. Instead, I more than doubled that to get to the end. I hope you all enjoy, and remember that all authors need feedback and reviews!_

There were times when he felt the urge to just reach over and wrap one of her curls around his finger. The curls were loose, and long. They hung almost to her waist when they were fully let down. Today they were down except two sections drawn back on each side, pulling it away from her face.

Hermione Granger's hair was rich with color. What was once described as plain mousy brown, was now highlighted with golden streaks and copper streaks. When light hit her curls, he would stand there mesmerized, lost in thought while his eyes were drinking her in. She had never noticed.

William Weasley, Bill to his family and friends, could watch her for hours. He could spend an infinite amount of time just thinking about her when she wasn't there. As far as he knew, she had never noticed his attention, which was good. Bill couldn't imagine how he'd explain that one, and he had no idea whether she returned his feelings or not.

So he spent his time watching, looking, observing, or whatever name you put on it, it was the same thing. Times like this, when everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, he wanted nothing more than to bury his hands in her hair and drag her up against him so he could taste her lips, caress her tongue and invade her mouth.

But that might as well be the same as defeating Voldemort all by his onsie. It would never happen; it was just too far fetched for him. It didn't help any that she was married. Widowed was a better word for it, but she still went by _his_ last name, still wore _his_ ring, and still slept in _his_ bed.

Even worse than that though, was the fact that it was his baby brother she had been married to. They had gotten married just weeks before the final battle, and Ron hadn't made it out of that fight. The Weasley family had been hit hard when they finally found each other at the end.

Besides Ron, they had also lost Percy and Fred. Their father, Arthur, had been blinded by a spell and had never recovered it. That had been nearly two years ago, happening in the early autumn after Hermione, Harry, and Ron had graduated. Ginny was spared the battle at school, as she was helping to hide away the younger children.

Too much pain in too short a time. It had left them all raw for months afterwards. The children that were left, with the exception of Ginny, had moved back home, leaving George, Charlie and Bill at the house. His parents had insisted that Hermione move in as well as Harry. That was quite possibly his downfall.

She was in his house, day and night. He remembered when he first noticed her. She had woken up late at night, nearly two in the morning and had gone down to get a glass of pumpkin juice. He had been sitting in the kitchen eating the last of his mother's pecan pie.

It wasn't anything he hadn't seen on her before, but late at night, in the dark kitchen, she looked different. She looked older, more mature. Her night clothes were muggle clothes: a pair of short boxer shorts and a camisole top which left an inch or two of her belly bared. Her long legs were also bared to him. Hermione had come in and smiled sleepily at him, as she went over to the cabinet to reach up for a clean mug. Bill happened to glance over just as she began to stretch, which bared her sides and back to him and pulled the muscles in her legs tight.

She wasn't the eighteen year old witch that had married his kid brother anymore. She was a twenty year old woman, and one that was available for the taking. His baser instincts wanted more of course, but he clamped down tight on it and refused to acknowledge them. He needed to remind himself that she was his brother's widow.

That night had been nearly six months ago. Six months of wanting her in his arms, his life, his bed. Six months of longing, of desire and lastly, of love. He had come to grips with the love issue over a month ago and it was getting harder to watch her without having her. She wasn't his. She never would be. But he could spend his time watching, and hoping.

Hermione had known for some time that it was time to move on, time to leave her short marriage behind and to look for a home of her own. Her marriage had been short, lasting not even a month. She had never even changed her last name, though she had meant to at the time.

It wasn't her extended family that made her want to leave. They treated her the same as Ginny, like their daughter. She got yelled at for not putting away her dishes and she got coddled like she was still only an eleven year old girl who was just starting out at Hogwarts.

Lately, as the memory of Ron faded, she began to look at people in a new light. More specifically, she began to look at men in a new light and it didn't help that there were three able bodied men right under the same roof as her.

She had seen the way George looked at her some times, with that contemplative look he had. She had noticed Charlie and the way he smelled. He smelled fresh, clean and completely different from Ron. And she had noticed Bill, the way he would go quite and stare at her some times, or the way his eyes followed her when she was in the room.

Hermione was beginning to want more than brothers and she knew she had to leave before she did anything that would hurt her extended family in any way. She knew having a relationship wouldn't hurt them. Ginny and Molly had been after her for a few months to start dating again. Hermione just didn't think it should be one of the boys.

Molly had said the most useful thing of all to her. She had said that the war proved how short life could be and that everyone deserved happiness, even after such a tragedy. Especially after such a tragedy. Hermione had declined the offer Ginny made of introducing her around to some of her co-workers, and she had turned down Harry's offer to have her tag along with him and Ginny to some of the night clubs they frequented.

Knowing it was all right and feeling that it was all right were two different things. It was the feeling that it was wrong which held her up. Sure, she wanted more and craved more, but Hermione had convinced herself that she wasn't allowed to have more. How could she go out and have fun, or date, when Ron never would again.

Their marriage wasn't one born of passion, or even love. It was born out of the desperation that their world may soon end, and that they might never have another chance to find some happiness. Ron never did have another chance. When she cited these reasons to Ginny and Harry, they both argued that it didn't mean she shouldn't have the chance.

But mostly, it was the growing attraction she felt for the oldest of the Weasley children, for Bill. Bill was different from Ron. He was older, more mature, and he was smart. They could sit and discuss books for hours, or talk about new theories in charms. He was more like her, but unlike her, he was popular. He was out with friends all the time, and had girls lining up to go out with him.

She had few friends and certainly none outside of the Burrow. He would have his chance at happiness. No matter how much it hurt to watch him with other girls, she knew he would only think of her as another little sister to protect and to tickle. That was her guiltiest pleasure of all, when they'd all start tossing pillows at each other and end up in a tangle with the two girls being on the receiving end of tickling hands. Bill always tickled her, and she relished the feeling of his hands on her.

Yes, it was defiantly time to move on. She could find a place in Diagon Alley, which was close to her tiny book shop. If she started looking now, she might be able to be out of the Burrow in a week or two. She didn't have much to move, and she had enough money saved up to cover several months rent right up front if need be. Though her shop was small, it was popular with the more intellectual wizards. Most of the books were rare and very advanced. She made enough to cover rent each month with money to spare.

While she wanted out of the house, she couldn't help but want him with her. She kept that thought firmly in mind as she hunted for an apartment over the next few days. She finally found one, and she couldn't help but picture Bill there, walking around in his night clothes, sitting at the table in the morning, laying on the sofa at night. It was all she could think of that day before she announced her plans to move.

It happened, she dropped her news at dinner like it was a bomb. She's moving out. Bill couldn't stand to listen to her as she nonchalantly told them that she had found a new place close to her shop and that she felt it was time to move on. When his mother had gotten that worried look to her face, Hermione had rushed to explain that she wasn't leaving them behind, she was just moving out. She would be leaving the next day.

Away from him, Bill thought with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He wouldn't see her every day, wouldn't randomly bump into her at night when she was all rumpled from sleep and wearing those delectable night clothes. Bill needed her around, needed to see her, and he had no idea just how to go about obtaining that.

For the rest of dinner, he didn't look up at her, as he was afraid of what words would come out if he did. If he had looked up, he'd have noticed her eyes straying to him more often than not, with a wistful look in her eyes.

Late that night found him restless and upset. Bill didn't go to sleep, he just tossed and turned and listened for her door. It was just after three am when he heard it creak open. He sat up and waited to hear her feet padding down the hallway and down the stairs. Once he knew she was in the kitchen, he made his mind up that he would at least try. If he never tried, he'd never get anywhere.

So he waited another minute or two, and then he padded downstairs wearing only his flannel pajama pants. Usually, he'd wear a robe over it, but he wanted every advantage he could get over Hermione. His body was sleek and lanky, but he had tight muscles all through his chest and arms. Maybe not bulky ones, but muscles that looked nice and toned nonetheless. Bill drew in a deep breath as he came closer to the bottom and then made himself look half asleep before stumbling into the kitchen.

Bill spotted Hermione right off, sitting at the table picking at a slice of toast. He walked past her without looking though and grabbed a mug from the cupboard. When he turned around, Bill made a surprised expression, as though he hadn't seen her sitting in the dark, alone and so beautiful.

"Oi, 'Mione, didn't see you there. Can't sleep?" he asked as he turned on the faucet and put water in his mug. Once it was full, he leaned against the counter and watched her.

"I'm too… well, I'm excited, but I'm also nervous. I've never lived alone before. There's always been someone around with me." She sighed softly and shrugged before looking down at the toast.

"I guess it's only natural, 'Mione. You'll be alone and trying to do everything by yourself. It'll go fine, you'll see." Bill took a sip of his water and watched her intently over the rim of his mug. She looked so damn kissable that it was almost physically hurting to not lean over and grab her by the shoulders and bury his hands in her hair while devouring her mouth.

"I… uh, I got a two bedroom apartment, so I was thinking that maybe I could get a room mate." Hermione turned three shades of red after finally getting that out, and Bill wondered at why she would be embarrassed over wanting a room mate. Unless it was a man. Maybe she met someone. It took control not to ask that particular question.

"That might not be a bad idea, I hate thinking of you all alone out there," Bill said tactfully. In his head, he was waging a war between three different entities on whether or not to kiss her, or go back to bed, or to offer to live with her. It turned out, he didn't make the decision. She did.

"I was wondering, actually, about…" She trailed off for a moment as he watched her, with a kernel of hope in his mind, and a tightness to his stomach. "That is, I thought maybe you could… well, I mean… Would you like to move in with me?" She finally spit it all out in a rush before ducking her head to examine her toast again.

Bill sat in momentary shock, a dumbstruck expression on his face. When she didn't get an answer, she looked up at him while tugging at her lower lip with her teeth. It made him want to kiss her, and at the moment, he wasn't certain that he'd be able to stop himself if she kept doing that.

"I… I think I would like that, Hermione." Bill forced the words out and watched as a bright smile lit up her face. Before he had any time to contemplate it, she was standing and coming towards him, her arms outstretched for a hug. She got to him and wrapped those arms around him with those soft delicate female arms. She leaned up and moved closer to brush a kiss against his cheek, but as she did he turned to look at her.

The kiss landed half on his mouth and half on his cheek, and as she did it, her eyes widened with the awareness of what she was doing. It was the awareness that he was bare chested, and all that separated their bare skin was her thin shirt.

Bill was stunned only for a moment, before his instincts kicked in and locked away his conscience. He set the mug down right on the edge of the counter, causing it to crash to the floor and spilling water everywhere. Paying it no attention at all, Bill wrapped his arms around her tightly and repositioned his lips until they were covering hers.

It was soft at first, gentle and undemanding, but when he felt her leaning into him, Bill pushed the line and slipped his tongue out to caress her lips, to prompt her mouth open. She obeyed and he slid his tongue into her.

It was indescribable to him, the taste and feel of Hermione in his arms. Bill slid one arm around her waist and the other cupped her cheek before sliding up and into her long curls. He groaned at the sensations, the tastes and the raw nerves that seemed to be on fire in his body.

Hermione fit perfectly against him - not too short and not too tall. Her body molded to his as their tongues dueled each other. She tasted sweet, like she'd just eaten chocolate. Her mouth was liquid velvet. It was soft and caressing, but wet at the same time. As he leaned in to her and turned until she was braced against the counter, Hermione's hands reached upwards from his arms and found his neck. She pulled him as close as she could. Moments later, he lifted her until she was sitting on the counter with her legs on either side of his.

Bill moved his lips from her and he ignored her groan of protest. Soon enough, his lips were on her neck as they were kissing, licking, and suckling at the skin. Her groan of protest soon turned into a moan as her eyes slipped shut and her head tilted back to give him better access to her. Hermione's legs moved up his, until they were wrapped tightly around his waist.

Their long denied mutual attraction fueled them as they both moved without the benefit of their consciences to tell them it was wrong. They didn't care much at all for anything that was happening in the world around them, because the world had ceased to exist. His arms moved down to pull her towards him, with his arms tight around her waist. When she was flush against him, he picked her up again and pulled back to look into her eyes.

"Tell me to stop, and I will. But tell me now, Hermione, because I won't stop on my own." His eyes were serious, even as they were burning with desire. Her own eyes looked into his the moment he started talking.

"I can't tell you to stop, Bill. I won't. Just don't hurt me tomorrow." Her own eyes were uncertain as she said this, and Hermione wearily looked at him.

"Oh, honey, if we do this, I'm never letting you go, much less going to hurt you. You don't know how long I've wanted this, 'Mione." His eyes stared into hers for another moment, waiting for her protest, but when she didn't give it to him he just leaned in and kissed her again. He turned them around so that he could walk over to the stairs, carrying her all the way to them. When they reached them though, they realized with a laugh that he wouldn't be able to navigate the twisting steps with her in his arms. Her legs unwrapped, and he let her slid down from his arms, prompting Bill let out a low moan as her body slid against his.

After lacing their fingers together, she turned and started up the steps with him only a step behind her. They came to a halt in the hallway, and Hermione stopped and turned to face him. She was biting at her lower lip again, and he was scared that she had changed her mind.

"Bill, could you give me a moment alone? I'll meet you in your room." Regardless of his desire to never let her go again, he nodded and she unlaced her fingers to move down the hall to her room. Bill watched until she disappeared, then went into his room. In a quick frenzy, he shoved the dirty clothes under the bed and sprayed some cologne to get rid of the smell of three week old dirty socks.

Hermione entered her room, Ron's room, and leaned against the closed door for a moment. Pushing away from the door, she walked slowly over to the dresser where a framed wizarding picture sat. It was a picture from their wedding. She stared at it for a moment before she started to talk.

"I wish you would have lived, Ron. We might not have been in love, but we could have made it work. I know I told you I was moving, that I needed to be free again, but… well, I think I'm in love. Have been for a while, actually. I don't know if he loves me or if he ever will, but I do know I want him to try. I hope you can forgive me for this Ron. I never meant to fall in love with Bill."

While she had been talking, she quietly slipped her wedding band from her finger and laid it down in front of the picture of the two of them surrounded by her parents and his family. It was the last picture of all the Weasley's together, and of her parents. They had died as well, just a few days before the final battle.

She stared at the picture for a moment longer, before turning to leave the room behind. Hermione couldn't spend the night there again. It was his bed, his room. It never was hers.

Just down the hallway, the man she felt that she loved was waiting for her. There was no more dwelling on Ron. He was gone from her thoughts at the moment. Tonight was for her and for Bill. Hermione walked towards his room before she knocked softly.

The next morning, it was late morning before either Bill or Hermione made an appearance. Ginny smirked towards Hermione, and Charlie eyed Bill with an unspoken question in his eyes. They remained quite as they went into the kitchen to get food. Molly turned around and studied the two of them with a bit of a smirk.

"Well, it's certainly about time, you two. Ginny won the bet though, because you two dragged your feet so long." Hermione raised her eyebrows, then turned back towards the living room where Ginny sat with a matching smirk.

"It's about time you guys got together," Ginny said with a snort. "Does this mean I can have Bill's room, mum? It's bigger."

Hermione and Bill just sat down to eat, Hermione with a vividly red face, and Bill smirking like he had won a prize. As he looked up at Hermione, he thought maybe he had after all.

The End

_AN: I hope you enjoyed the story, and please remember to review stories you read!_


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